When the gathering opens on Aug. 30, the nation’s top government officials will descend upon New York City, forcing police to increase security, reroute traffic and manage thousands of political protestors–and all the while guarding against a terrorist attack. It’s a delicate balance; the police department already is fighting a lawsuit from the New York Civil Liberties Union for its handling of last year’s major antiwar protest, and demonstrators are determined that no violation will go unrecorded in the officers’ struggle to maintain order. As the interdepartment slogan goes, “The World is Watching.”

After a day of textbook training, officers don gas masks and cotton “chemical” suits and trudge outside. They charge through a smoke-filled trailer, rescue victims from a subway car, escort civilians to safety and decontaminate each others’ suits. Starting this month, officers will learn the lawful handling of crowds and the media and how to avoid losing their tempers at provocateurs. In addition to regular patrol officers, “special arrest” teams of eight to 10 uniformed officers will be trained to scan crowds for violent instigators–someone donning a mask or pulling a weapon from a backpack, for example–and swoop in for the arrest without disturbing peaceful demonstrators. Bomb-sniffing dogs will prepare to sweep commuter trains heading to Pennsylvania Station, the city’s main underground hub, which police have said will remain open during the event. Boston police are taking the July Democratic Convention just as seriously–they started training officers last year. The city has also decided to shut down North Station, the main transportation area directly beneath the FleetCenter, where the convention will be held.

On Manhattan’s Lower East Side, the city’s activists–dreadlocked peaceniks, Yuppies and silver-haired liberals in loafers–are preparing in their own way for the high-profile gathering, meeting monthly in a church social space to put their dislike for President George W. Bush into action. Their vehicle: the No RNC Clearinghouse. No detailed plans are discussed here, in the presence of the corporate media and, they assume, undercover cops. It’s merely a forum for activist groups to pool resources and coordinate rallies and street-theater performances events, and update online postings with information about housing and babysitting for out-of-town protesters. While they want to be heard, they say that violence would only drown out their message. At one meeting a man tapped a reporter on the shoulder. “Did you hear any talk about violent protests?” he demanded. “That’s my point. You didn’t because there wasn’t any.” But they still want to be ready for anything. So groups seek out legal workers to explain protesters’ rights: how to avoid arrest and what to do if it happens. Experienced protesters volunteer courses on demonstrating. Their advice includes how to de-escalate tense situations, for example, by adopting a less threatening posture, and carrying extra water and bandanas soaked in vinegar to protect against pepper spray. Instructors don’t advocate violence–or ask any questions. But for those looking for mischief, there are plenty of Web sites offering instruction and encouraging pranks like tossing pies (recipes for tofu cream and chocolate cookie crust included) or signing up to volunteer for the convention, then ditching your shift. There’s also a list of more dangerous action, such as damaging property, throwing projectiles and obstructing police.

Meanwhile, legitimate protest preparations were stalled last week when one of the largest organizers, United for Peace and Justice, was denied a permit to rally in Central Park. The police have over a dozen permit requests, but won’t grant any until an unofficial June 15 deadline. Boston police have a similar policy, though they’re setting up a stage and microphone near the convention area so protesters can be heard. New York Police Commissioner Ray Kelly has also promised to allow protesters within “sight and sound” of their target, as the law requires, but demonstrators are pessimistic about whether this will happen. The New York Civil Liberties Union has been negotiating for months, with little success. It’s also taking the city to court in June over some of the department’s past practices during demonstrations, such as corralling protesters in metal pens and using officers on horseback to disperse crowds, and hopes to win a decision before the convention. “We believe we’ve made some progress, but that will be tested” in August, says executive director Donna Lieberman. “We have a set of rules, and they can’t change because of the Republican convention.” But it’s up to the protesters, not the police, whether demonstrations will get out of hand, says Kelly. To him, violence on a scale with Chicago’s convention in 1968 is “ancient history”–his officers are better trained and better prepared.

But tensions are already building. At a recent antiwar protest in New York, about 30 demonstrators were ringed by as many police officers, radios squawking from their belts. An impassioned young woman hopped up on the overturned crate doubling as a soapbox and shouted over the din about the government–and the police who work for them. “I cannot wait to stand up with all of you in August, at the Republican National Convention, and show them that we will not be intimidated!” The officers stood by, unmoved.